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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583361">Alamort</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViveMemorLeti/pseuds/ViveMemorLeti'>ViveMemorLeti</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇ of ᴏᴜʀᴏʙᴏʀᴏs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>John Wick (Movies), Keanu Reeves - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assassin John, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF John, Bird/Human Hybrids, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, But also fuck Canon (kinda), Cross-Posted on Quotev, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Insight, Gen, Helen gets here eventually, How Do I Tag, Human Experimentation, Inspired by Maximum Ride, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, John Wick being John Wick, John gets a little more than he's bargained for, Late Night Conversations, Night Terrors, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Canon, Pre-John Wick (2014), Protective John Wick, Slow To Update, Why Did I Write This?, but leads into it, john is a good dad, long fic, no beta we die like men, or at least my Oc's are</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:29:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViveMemorLeti/pseuds/ViveMemorLeti</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A lost Oracle, her Cerberus, and an Assassin walk into a coffee shop. It goes better than one would expect.<br/>or:<br/>In which an assassin and a few lab experiments find a family in each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Helen Wick/John Wick, Helen Wick/John Wick/Original Character(s), John Wick &amp; Original Character(s), John Wick &amp; Original Female Character(s), Platonic tho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇ of ᴏᴜʀᴏʙᴏʀᴏs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alamort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome to Alamort.</p><p>        So, I have never written a John Wick fic much less attempted to write one until now, but I just really love John and I wanted to try it out! With that in mind, I'm sorry if he seems occ but I'm really trying my best to keep him in character. </p><p>        That being said, If you haven't noticed this is gonna take place pre- JW: Chapter 1- meaning that it takes place before all the events in the movies. It's mainly going to deal with John and my oc's relationship because I'm planning some things for the future and I know people will need some background for when things get a little... supernatural. (I not only just wanted to write john being a dad bc we don't have many of those fics and I had a HC of John being soft for small children and children in general but I'm trying to get into writing again oops-)</p><p>       Anyway, I think that's about it. Please leave a comment and let me know if I should continue this?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <em>John </em>
</p><p>       <strong> It</strong> was raining again.</p><p>        There was a great gray mist towering over them all, covering the top of the behemoth glass buildings the made-up New York City; raindrops fell from the dark skies like small balls of hail, frantic and painful in their race to the ground below. The people below scattered for shelter, taking great care to cover themselves with their massive umbrellas as roads and sidewalks darkened by the sky's tears. The rain hissed in the ears of the people it passed in both greeting and warning of what was to come. The gutters soon gurgled with the influx of rain in tandem to the hair-raising sound of thunder as sidewalks. </p><p>         Yes, it was raining again, but John Wick almost preferred it that way. The rain helped wash away his presence almost as well as the shadows did. The rain, although persistent, gave him an excuse to shield the cuts on his face from the ever-curious public eye with his massive black umbrella. John calmly picked up his pace as the rain continued to pour, his face shifting into one of neutrality as pushed onward. </p><p>        John sighed under his breath which expanded and floated up and out of his mouth in a mist as gray as the clouds above. The rain continued to persist, forcing John to look for shelter in the form of all café.</p><p>        Ridding his umbrella of water under the awning, John strode into the café with the grace if a big cat and took in the smell of coffee and baked goods. He took a quick look around out of instinct, taking in the decent group of people inhabiting the cafe. All intermingling or minding their own business, they never noticed the small girl in the very back, hidden in a corner under her short golden- almost white- hair, almost impossibly green-eyed glory observing them all as he was her.</p><p>        Their eyes locked.</p><p>        She smiled.</p><p>       And suddenly, John felt very naked under her stare. It felt like she could see him for all that he was: bloody hands and lonely shadows. His heart accelerated briefly, an unknown instinct rising in his chest that left just as quickly when she tilted her head at him in greeting and then back down to the book on the table.</p><p>        He wasn't sure what that was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. John had never felt threatened by a child, but he couldn't deny that the strangeness of a child sitting by themselves, the way no one seemed to pay any attention to her, or how she had made him feel. John walked up the counter, thinking. He wasn't sure if he should approach or not; For all he knew, the girl could be working for someone or just one of the many children of the orphanage, maybe even both. Even then, it was far, a few blocks at most, but she shouldn't have been here.</p><p>        He glanced back at the girl again and found her looking out the window as if in a daze. If she approached him than he would speak to her, if not then so be it.</p><p>        John spent a few hours there, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. No one bothered him and his little table on the other side of the café, but, just as the rain began to lighten up just a little bit, there was the unmistakable sound of shoes against tiles, light and heavy in a way that only a child could have.</p><p>        John looked up and watched as the golden-haired girl sat across from him. Right as she sat down, he heard paws hitting the floors. He glanced down to see skinny puppies following her, strange in color and behavior for they barely made a sound and sat either at her feet or hopped onto her lap.  He took note of the rusty red Doberman as it sat on the floor outside the booth, what might have looked like a rottweiler mix that scurried under the table and...</p><p>        John couldn't help but raise his eyebrow as the final dog- an unknown breed- glared him with the strangest central heterochromatic eyes he had ever seen. It was like staring at silvery red threads of a solar eclipse.  </p><p>        "Hello, sir." She greeted with a tiny smile, her eyes somehow here and far away. John took a good look at her, putting the paper aside to give her his full attention. She was a small thing, about four and a half feet tall, maybe five or six years old by her tone and vocabulary. She was unarmed and open, backpack strapped on, little legs swinging from the tall chair as she sat her book on the table, dog in her arms.</p><p>        "The world hasn't favored you," She continued, her eyes flickered across his face. "Are you okay?"</p><p>        "I'm fine," John answered smoothly. He decided to jump right into it as he always had. "Do you have anywhere to go, little one?"</p><p>        "That's a strange question, don't you think?" She gave a little hum, a whimsical sound that resonated in her tone. Her eyes glazed over for a moment. <em>Curious.</em> "There's always somewhere to go. You just have to look; be vigilant in your endeavors and you might be rewarded with a favorable outcome, no?" </p><p>        She was eloquent, too. He briefly wondered how old she really was and if she was working for someone.</p><p>        "Perhaps." John conceded. "Though, what I meant was: do you have a home to go back to."</p><p>         Those apple green eyes of hers seemed to laugh at him as she smiled. He wondered what she found so amusing. "Home? The trees and open skies are my home just like the clouds house lightning, even if only temporarily. You're not asking the right questions, Mister."</p><p>        John took a deep breath. <em>Alright then.</em> "Who are you working for?"</p><p>        She blinked up at him, face contorting into one of confusion as if she didn't understand the question before looking down at her dog, who stopped glaring daggers at him to glance up at her. The Doberman puppy yipped softly as did the other two. She looked back at him, earnest in every way possible. "I do not work for anyone, sir. It is just my Cerberus and me." </p><p>        John believed it. He relaxed slightly in his seat, dark eyes taking in her honest face. He decided to indulge in it. "Cerberus?" His mind went to the three dogs that kept getting stranger by the minute. "Your dogs?"</p><p>        She smiled at him, and it was like staring at a booming sunflower flower with how all her features sprung up. "Yes! They are my companions. This is Fenrir-" She kissed the disgruntled puppy in her arms on the head and then peaked under the table. "Erebus is the one taking a nap under us and Lucifer is the one on the floor over there." She gestured down at the calm puppy. John glanced down at it and found it looking back at him with a rather severe stare.</p><p>        The puppy stared him down for a moment and then gave a low bark.</p><p>        John tilted his head in acknowledgment. </p><p>        "Oh!" He looked back at her at the sudden noise. The little girl stuck her hand out with an embarrassed expression.  "I'm sorry- I never introduced myself. My name is Icarus, but you can call me Birdie if you'd like."</p><p>        "My name is John Wick, Miss Birdie" He carefully took her smaller hand in his. He was struck, then, by how tiny she was. "You can call me John."</p><p>        She beamed at him, face open and bright, honest in a way only children could be even if her eyes looked old and sad. He took her in again: the riot of curls that made a halo around her head, imploring green eyes, the sandy, if not a little pale, tone of her skin, the slight hollowness of her cheeks from malnutrition, the purple bags under her eyes.</p><p>        His heart ached for her for a moment. He slowly let go of her hand.</p><p>        "You haven't answered my question, Miss Birdie." He said gently, quietly. Fenrir grumbled.</p><p>        She giggled, face ducking to rub her face against Fenrir. The dog squirmed in her arms, forcing her to put him down beside her, only for him to crawl back into her lap, looking indigent.</p><p>        "I'm sorry, Finny." She apologized, cradling him to her before looking back at him. She hesitated for the first time, her smile gone as she blinked up at him with that dazed expression. He heard a whimper under the table, a light scratching of metal against claws. Fenrir leaned back and huffed in her face and, at the corner of his eyes, Lucifer turned to stare somberly. She blinked, the expression gone, and with it the dog's curious response. </p><p>        "I'm sorry, Mr. John, sometimes my mind runs away from me." John felt a pang of concern then as she frowned. "That sounds bad, but it's not, I swear."</p><p>        She shook her head, curls gleaming white under the lights. Something sad shifting across her face, melancholy. Tired. Detached. John understood.  "I don't have a home to go back to; I don't have people, but I have my Cerberus."</p><p>        John hummed and truly looked at her.</p><p>        "Á la mort," she said in perfect french. Quiet and almost inaudible against the pounding rain. "They are all I'll have."</p><p>       There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment. John closed his eyes and wondered why looking at this child felt like he was looking at another version of himself- younger and fell of grief with only his father's old friend to guide him much as these dogs did to Icarus.</p><p>        He wondered which organization would do to her what they did to him.</p><p>        And when.</p><p>        It was only a matter of time, really. The city had eyes and ears everywhere and that thought made him pause. Perhaps he could help this little thing and save her from becoming something she shouldn't. </p><p>        "Do you want one, Miss Icarus?"</p><p>        Icarus, Birdie, blinked up at him owlishly, her head tilted to the side. "A home? Yes."</p><p>        "I can help you look for one if you'd like." He almost regretted it. Asking a small girl to come with a much older man somewhere usually implied something sinister, but he had a feeling she would know what he had meant.</p><p>        "Normally, I would never take such an offer." She smiled again, looking at him again as he's done something to amuse her. "But, you're strange, Mr. John. The world is unkind to do you and yet you have the capability to be kind; your heart is good even when your appearance might say otherwise."</p><p>        She hummed again, softer this time. A shy look on her face. The rain outside suddenly starting to diminish."I think that makes you a good man."</p><p>        Something told him that she had chosen those words carefully as if she were afraid that the wrong thing could make him leave, but John doubted that. some part of him realizing that he might get a little too attached to this strange little girl and her entourage.  </p><p>        "Thank you, Miss. Birdie. You are very kind."</p><p>        The sky rumbled once more, but the rain came to a stop. Fenrir's face was softer now, his eyes fierce, yes, but not glaring. He felt something brush against his ankle before moving away, his eyes glanced at Lucifer and found him laying on the floor, content. Beams of sunlight broke free from the oppressive clouds: slow, bright, and new like the expression across Icarus' face.</p><p>        Something warm settled in his chest, curling and purring like a lazy cat.  He took a sip of his cold, forgotten coffee and found himself trying not to think too much of it.</p>
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